


a pause in time

by n_kei



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Behind the Scenes, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Lemon, M/M, slight crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 22:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20478572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_kei/pseuds/n_kei
Summary: Behind the scenes of Johnny’s Communication Center Ep.10, where Mark not getting the memo and insisting on joining the sleepover at Johnny's house, Johnny sighing in fond exasperation, and Doyoung just wanting some, please and thank you.





	a pause in time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephers/gifts).

> Dedicated to the lovely [ephe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephers/pseuds/ephers), for indulging me and being the best sounding board as I wade in the waters of this new (and quickly growing) favourite pairing. While there is no shortage of Sweet, Pure and Simple JohnDo content, I decided to add my twist to the bag, because why the hell not.
> 
> Disclaimer: Heed to the rating and additional tags. If it is not your thing, kindly press back :)

Neo City Tour: North America has been a tiring tour so far, even though they’ve only gone a quarter of the way across the United States. Chicago, to be exact.

Mark, who had a can of Coors, had all but passed out after their brief vlog recording. Luckily, he heeded to Doyoung’s annoying nagging and washed up before hitting the sack. Now, Doyoung watches with a soft glint in his eyes as Johnny pulls the covers to Mark’s chin as the younger man mumbles a soft thank you. He’s faring slightly better, having only had two beers and feeling a pleasant buzz through his veins. The ground is also being a little slippery, but he’s catching his own foot, er, feet, just fine.

Johnny meets his gaze with a reassuring smile, and gestures to the door. They quietly pad down the stairs back to Johnny’s living room, when a strange air fills Doyoung’s lungs.

Now that the dinner is over and the others have left, stepping into Johnny’s home like this felt like an invasion of privacy. Mr. and Mrs. Suh were kind enough to let Mark and himself sleep over, but it still feels weird. Doyoung has only seen Mrs. Suh a handful of times. She usually visited Seoul to see Johnny for a brief week or two, then fly back to Chicago for work. Doyoung had never met Mr. Suh before.

But they welcomed everyone with so much warmth, that even their managers let their guard down and enjoyed the food and homey atmosphere. Doyoung didn’t expect to learn about Johnny’s past, but Mrs. Suh supplied those stories in bulk, from before Johnny was born, to all of her fondest memories.

It’s been nothing short of an American experience, or that’s what he calls it. The sleepover, going to Target, visiting Johnny’s elementary and middle schools, and returning home to snack on Bagel Bites and beer. These are things he would never experience in Korea. It’s not a part of the culture to have sleepovers.

Then it hits Doyoung.

In the six years of acquaintance, Doyoung has never hosted Johnny, or any other member, at his house in Seoul before; there was never a chance or reason to.

To be fair, on the days off, Doyoung and the other members would go back home to see their family, take a breather from work, before coming back refreshed. It was the ‘alone time’ everyone needed. And ever since their trainee days, Johnny’s accommodations were arranged by the company. He stayed in the dorms with the other international trainees, was provided meals at the cafeteria, and took the classes that were scheduled by their instructors.

According to Johnny, there was never an instance when he was alone. When he first joined the company, he trained with Sehun and other EXO members day in and out. When Doyoung joined the company, he’d often see Johnny and Ten attached at the hip as they spoke English with rapid intensity to the untrained ear. The language barrier scared him, so he was never close with either of them in the first year. The hurdle would make appearances throughout the years.

Out of everyone in NCT127, Johnny was closest with Taeyong. It sounds like a no-brainer, since they are the same age and have trained together for one year longer than most others. Johnny’s been over to Taeyong’s house, he even attended Taeyong’s sister’s wedding. As a testament to their friendship, he and Yuta were the first to receive Taeyong’s niece’s pictures, before Taeyong shared it with the others.

And then there’s him. Kim Doyoung. The one who only grew closer with Johnny in the last two years, who never invited him over for a sleepover. But look at where they are now. Teammates. Friends. Maybe even something more, with how close they’ve grown in the past few months.

Doyoung tries to push the thoughts aside, but they persist despite his efforts.

Johnny starts saying something when the walls feel like they’re closing around him. A mix of emotions rush through his veins: guilt, regret, disappointment. For years, he prided in being helpful and approachable to all NCT members. Within that frame of thought, this feels like an oversight. He could’ve been more inclusive, friendly. Instead, he was put off by a language barrier, something that others like Yuta and Johnny dealt with on a daily basis–

Feeling suddenly trapped, he reaches for Johnny’s arm. “Let’s take a walk? I need some fresh air.”

Johnny glances over with a look of surprise, but nods nonetheless. He must’ve seen something in Doyoung’s eyes, because he doesn’t ask about it. “There’s a park nearby. I used to go there a lot.”

Doyoung swallows thickly and nods.

Johnny holds the door for him, and locks the door behind them.

The crisp night air envelopes them at once, and Doyoung rubs his nose against the collar of his hoodie, pulling the baggy fabric around him a little closer.

It takes a bit over ten minutes to get to the park, which consists of a set of stairs, lower level monkey bars, mid level sliding pole, and a tall slide at the end. Behind it is a sandbox, and to the left is a pair of swings. The park is sparsely lit with lampposts, and the minimal lighting makes Doyoung feel a strange mix of eerie and comfort.

Johnny seats himself on one, facing the jungle gym. Doyoung settles on the other, facing the other way towards the open field that is rimmed with sparse trees.

For a while, they swing back and forth, back and forth. The sameness of the motion has a calming effect, and Doyoung takes deep breaths and tries to slow his pacing heart.

It isn’t until minutes later that Johnny ventures quietly: “Penny for your thoughts?”

Doyoung frowns. “Penny?”

Johnny smiles softly, cheeks tinted pink and eyes hazy. It’s a dangerous look, Doyoung thinks to himself. “It means, would you care to share what you’re thinking about?” He pauses, pointing to his own forehead. “Your eyebrows are about to connect in the middle.”

Doyoung touches his eyebrows and looks away, feeling self-conscious. “Oh.”

“Well?”

He takes a while to answer. “I was just thinking about inviting you over some time.”

Johnny quirks a curious smile. “Not to burst your bubble, but we live together already. All nine of us.”

Doyoung snorts, about to correct Johnny, but he catches the twinkle in those half-lidded eyes and realizes the other is only teasing him. His cheeks grow pink. “Of course, what was I thinking? We do live together. Nevermind.”

Johnny chuckles softly and swings across to nudge his shoulder. “C’mon,” he pesters in a light tone. “What were you saying again? Inviting me to your parents’ place?”

“I said no such thing,” Doyoung replies, looking away. There is a part of him that is complaining with embarrassment, but his consciousness is too buzzed to comprehend his internal conflict, so he runs with it. “In fact, it is probably best to leave me in my little fantasy bubble since I’m clearly spouting nonsense.”

No reply comes for a moment, but Doyoung hears some rustling beside him. He wants to look, but he wants even more to hide in a hole and forget about everything.

He doesn’t expect Johnny to wrap his arms around him, holding him in place as the swing flies forwards. The collision would knock a smaller man down, but Johnny holds tight, absorbing the force and steadies Doyoung all at once.

“Trust me, whatever it is, you’re thinking too hard about it.”

“That was dangerous,” Doyoung complains softly into Johnny’s t-shirt. His hands slip from their grip around the metal chains to wound around Johnny’s waist, falling comfortably to his lower back. Johnny shifts in his arms.

“Dongyoungie.”

“You don’t even know what it's about.”

“It’s enough to worry me.” Johnny takes a small step back, so that he could see Doyoung’s eyes. “Do you really want to invite me to your parent’s place?”

Doyoung squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in the soft fabric. “Yes. I can't believe I haven’t done it sooner. I feel like an idiot.”

Johnny breaks into a grin. He steps back into Doyoung’s space, so that there is not a breath of emptiness between them. “I’d love to be there. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

Doyoung doesn’t reply, but he sniffs and nods his approval, and Johnny chuckles and tightens his hold.

“Stupid Ddongyongie.”

“If you call me shithead one more time it’s over between us.”

Johnny smirks. “Is my cute Ddongie threatening me now?”

“I’ll show you cute.”

Doyoung struggles to escape Johnny’s arms for the next five minutes. What ends up happening is him tickling Johnny, who shrieks and loses balance, falling on him and sending them both on the grass, in a very typical romance movie way that it would make Doyoung roll his eyes way the hell back if he was sober.

Above him, Johnny laughs loudly, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. “You’re right, that was pretty cute.”

Doyoung quietly thanks the darkness for hiding his blush, lest he gives Johnny another reason to tease him. “I can’t believe you fell on me. _And_ your fat ass made me fall,” he growls, pushing the heavy body off of him.

“Please, you love this fat ass,” Johnny jokes, eyes curving to crescents, lips grinning charmingly.

While there is truth to those words, Doyoung doesn’t let it show. “Get. Off.”

Johnny shakes his head petulantly, making an unhappy sound in the back of his throat. “Actually I quite like this position, it’s easier to kiss you.”

“I- huh?”

Johnny rests his elbows on either side of Doyoung’s head and swoops down for a short peck. “Like this,” he mutters softly, “because I really like kissing you.” Each word punctuated with a kiss.

Doyoung makes a sound of protest at first, because he feels like he should, but when he reaches up to push Johnny off of him, his hands running down from his shoulders instead and resting on the small of his back. Johnny makes a very happy sound, and Doyoung feels something grow between them. To his tipsy surprise, it is as much of himself as it is Johnny.

“This was definitely not what I meant when I said to get some fresh air,” comes his retort, weak with distraction.

Johnny hums, kissing the soft skin of his neck. “Do you want to stop?”

“Do you have lube?”

“What,” asks Johnny, after a pause, like he thought he’d heard wrong. But Doyoung doesn’t try to correct himself, staring at Johnny with an equally shock and expectant look, and Johnny feels a little like the carpet had swept from under his feet. “Didn’t peg you as the exhibitionist type.”

Doyoung scrunches his nose and draws a warm, steady hand down Johnny’s thigh, squeezing lightly. “There’s no one watching us. And that’s not the name. Agora-something. Agoraphilia, I think.”

Something in Johnny stammers, he suspects it might be his heart. “I’m amazed you know the correct term for this. And,” he digs for his wallet and fishes out a pack of lube. “I do, but I didn’t expect it to be here, of all places. It’s nothing like the porn. We don’t even have blankets.”

Doyoung snorts, ignoring his inner voice at wondering how Johnny knows. He takes off his hoodie quickly and lays it down. “Let’s be real. Mark, bless his oblivious soul, was the only one who didn’t get the memo and insisted to sleep over with us. Otherwise we would’ve already been having sex in your childhood bedroom.”

“Let it be known that Doyoung is not prudish. Not a single iota,” Johnny smirks, like making an announcement. “Also, maybe not the bedroom. It’s too close to my parents’ room, and the walls are thin.”

“The living room, then? Those couches were pretty comfortable.”

Johnny chuckles, burying his head in the crook of Doyoung’s neck as the laughter shakes his body. “Are you that horny?”

“We don’t get too many chances to be horny, if you haven’t realized,” Doyoung huffs, drawing Johnny closer to him because it’s comfortable and warm. “Is this okay?”

“As long as you don’t mind performing with a limp tomorrow.”

Even in the dark, the concern in Johnny’s eyes are as apparent as ever. So Doyoung draws his chin down, silencing him with another round of kisses which Johnny happily obliges. Eventually, with some wiggling help from Doyoung, Johnny manages to pull his jeans down, and lifts his long legs up to prepare him. They haven't had much experience with each other’s bodies, but Doyoung is hard and eager and needy, and Johnny wants nothing more than to please him.

He presses open-mouthed kisses along the inner thighs, and grumbles contently when Doyoung makes soft sounds of pleasure.

“That sensitive, huh?” Johnny grumbles into the skin as he pushes a finger in.

Beneath him, Doyoung freezes as the sensation of being stretched, however gently, runs up his spine and makes him shiver.

“Try to relax, push out,” encourages Johnny, holding himself in place.

Doyoung squeezes his eyes shut and concentrates on breathing and relaxing his muscles. Eventually, he loosens around Johnny, who takes it as a sign and withdraws his finger so that only the tip remains inside, then pushes in again.

“Oh god,” he whispers, torn between relishing and flinching from the stretched feeling. “Was that really just one finger?”

Johnny chuckles quietly, deigning to reply. Instead he repeats the motion while his other hand circles around the base of Doyoung’s cock before loosely gripping around it. He adds another finger. This time, they both moan as Johnny twists and scissors his fingers, stretching Doyoung and searching, searching for that spot–

“There,” Doyoung pants, his knuckles white when gripping at the hoodie underneath.

Johnny watches him with half closed eyes, and takes in the rare wanton expression. Unlike the Doyoung on stage, who gives 110% to his delivery of musical phrasing and emotional impact, the Doyoung underneath him has blown pupils and completely flushing, needy, gorgeous. He intends to add one more finger, only for Doyoung to whine quietly.

“More?” Johnny purrs, his fingers curling deep inside, pressing against Doyoung’s prostate and stealing his breath.

Doyoung only nods in response.

“Hands and knees,” Johnny orders gruffly.

With aching difficulty, Doyoung climbs to his hands and knees. In this position, he is vulnerable and submissive, the way he loves and hates, and Johnny knows this. With one hand on Doyoung’s shoulder and the other guiding his cock to Doyoung’s entrance, Johnny thrusts himself inside, not slowing or pausing until he is balls deep.

Doyoung bites his bottom lip, letting out a low moan as he’s stretched beyond anything he’s used to. “John, oh fuck.”

“You’re so tight,” Johnny whispers, low and hot beside his ear. “Babe, relax.”

A rough pad of thumb brushes against the exposed skin of Doyoung’s hip, urging him to loosen around his cock. It sears a heated mark on Doyoung’s skin.

“You try being in my position and show me how fast you relax,” he snipes back, breathless.

Johnny chuckles softly, pressing a gentle kiss on Doyoung’s clothed shoulder, feeling the shudder down his spine all the way inside, clenching around him– “Maybe next round, Ddongie.”

Doyoung would bristle at the nickname if he wasn’t caged and pressed down. Instead, he rolls his hips, slipping Johnny out an inch before pushing back and taking him even deeper. Johnny bites his lower lip and moans like liquid sex, hot and head and then, finally, he moves.

He withdraws slowly, like trying to memorize the way Doyoung wraps around and squeezes him with every inch, then thrusts in a little faster. A hand roughly tugs the t-shirt collar over Doyoung’s shoulder to pepper the pale skin with open-mouthed kisses. A small voice inside supplies that Doyoung will most likely complain about him ruining a perfectly good tee. He rebuttals that Doyoung will grow quiet when he throws over one of his oversized sweaters as a peace offering.

The image of Doyoung wearing nothing but his sweater makes him grow harder, twitching inside the wet, susceptible body underneath. Doyoung groans and pushes back, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“God, you feel so good,” Johnny growls, licking a fat stripe from where Doyoung’s shoulder and neck meet, all the way to just below his ear, before sucking a pink mark there.

“Harder,” Doyoung whines coaxingly, feeling the pleasure build from the base of his abdomen and needing more, and more, and more.

Johnny’s hands slip down to his hips and tugs back roughly, while thrusting in hard, the contacts of their skin making an obscene slapping noise. His jabs speed up, rough and demanding and dirty. Heat courses through Doyoung’s veins as he pants and grunts between moans of pleasure. He nudges the side of Doyoung’s cheek, and when he turns his head, captures his lips in a series of sloppy wet kisses. Their lips become red and wet, connecting and pulling back just a breath, then pressing tight again.

“Let me,” Johnny whispers in a hushed tone, reaching a hand around to jerk at Doyoung’s throbbing member, bobbing and leaking precum.

Doyoung bites into his fist to keep from moaning out loud. In retaliation, he tightens and loosens around Johnny in an erratic rhythm in a way he knows will drive Johnny insane.

“If you keep this up–” Johnny begins, breathless and thick with lust.

“Give it to me.”

The roughness of Doyoung’s demand and the overload tips Johnny over, and he moans a warning before thrusting a few more times, both of which were met by Doyoung’s enthusiastic rolls of hips, and spills into the wet tightness.

Doyoung feels his insides grow hot with liquid and pushes back even harder, even deeper, like a coup de grâce, and comes into Johnny’s grip with a moan. His last splatters dirty the ground underneath, but he's too busy catching his breath to grimace at the fact that they had sex in a park.

The realization sets in a minute later, along with the other realization that Doyoung will be walking (read: wobbling) back home with cum dribbling between his legs. Johnny doesn’t have the slightest care. He laughs while taking off his own soiled boxers, wrapping it in Doyoung’s hoodie, and stands to his feet. Doyoung, too tired to complain at how disgusting that is, just rolls his eyes. He lets Johnny pull him up, but the unexpected force throws him off-balance, and he nearly tumbles back to eat a mouthful of grass if Johnny didn’t catch him in time.

“Sorry,” Johnny mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of dark brown hair. “Do you want me to piggyback you home?”

“I can walk,” Doyoung says dryly, inwardly preening at the affection.

Johnny watches Doyoung take a few steps, gaining more strength but still stumbling, and offers his arm. Doyoung considers being stubborn for half a second, but it’s getting cold without his hoodie, so he takes it.

Then Johnny does the cheesy thing where his arm lowers, sliding Doyoung’s hand right into his and gripping firmly. Instead of commenting, Doyoung asks:

“How did you know I liked your ass?”

A pause.

“Your hand keeps falling just above it.” The small smile on Johnny’s face turns a touch teasing. “You don’t have to be shy, you know. I’m pretty sure everyone knows we’re together. Besides our date in NYC, we released a whole photoshoot, then posted a behind-the-scenes video of it.”

Doyoung flusters. “Stop joking about these things. Was I really that obvious?”

“Maybe. Is it so bad if people find out?”

“I’d rather our relationship be found out by design with intention, not leaked footages and anonymous third person accounts.” Doyoung scrunches his nose. “Lee Sooman-seonsaengnim would kill us though, probably.”

“Being employed is important too I guess,” Johnny notes wryly.

“Mhm.”

Doyoung lags behind a little, because it is uncomfortable to walk after a rough round of sex, and sees Johnny in front of him. His eyes lower thoughtfully. Then, without thinking, his hand connects to the full, round butt in a satisfying _ smack _. Johnny jolts and twists back in shock.

“Did you just–”

Doyoung snickers, sticking his tongue out playfully. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Do you want me to smack you back twice as hard?”

“That’s abusive. And let’s not. Your cum is still leaking out, it would get messy.”

Johnny stares at him, his gaze flashing with something dark. Doyoung looks down and sees a sizable shape pressing against the loose sweatpants, and looks away with an annoyed grumble. Johnny smirks. “It’s kinda hot. You can’t blame me.”

Doyoung sighs in exasperation.

They re-enter the house shortly after, and Doyoung makes a beeline for the bathroom to clean himself, while Johnny following soon after to wash their evidence out of his boxers and Doyoung’s hoodie. When that’s said and done, they make their way to the living room and roll out the futons Johnny’s mother has left out, side by side but not touching. Doyoung slips under the thin cover as Johnny hits the light switch before doing the same.

Silence falls around them like a thick, comfortable blanket, and Doyoung wiggles in his bedding. Johnny looks over with tired, half-lidded eyes. “Hm?”

Doyoung stares back with bright eyes. “Sorry for not inviting you over sooner.”

Johnny reaches under Doyoung’s cover to find his hand, interlacing their fingers, before pulling the back of his hand to his lips and pressing a kiss there. “It’s okay. It makes me happy you get so worried about me, even for me-in-the-past.”

Doyoung grins, and pulls their joined hands to him so he can press kisses on Johnny’s fingertips, too. “Sap.”

“Only for my Ddongie.”

“Shut up.”

Doyoung attempts to roll to face the other side, but Johnny holds his hand tight, so he ends up on his back. Johnny wiggles over and presses one last kiss on Doyoung’s forehead, before retreating back to his covers.

“Sweet dreams, Ddongie.”

“...good night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Johnny is the type to make love, and so is Doyoung. Yet they are having grimy dirty sex, and it eats at me so much that I want to write more. So this is my warning: you may see more of this pairing from me in the future. I would greatly appreciate that if you liked this, to leave a comment to let me know ^ u ^ <3
> 
> Take care and tread softly,  
K


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